In The Blink of an Eye
by Sweet Little Mary Sue
Summary: It was supposed to be a short visit "across the pond" for Jessamine Cooper, to hold the hand of her friend as she passed on, but her sudden possession of a mysterious heirloom beckons her to stay, to investigate, and discover the truth behind the pendant that she is afraid to take off, as well as the story behind the eerie statues that seem to watch her night and day...
1. Chapter One

In The Blink of an Eye

Sweet Little Mary Sue

Synopsis: It was supposed to be a short visit "across the pond" for Jessamine Cooper, to hold the hand of her friend as she passed on, but her sudden possession of a mysterious heirloom beckons her to stay, to investigate, and discover the truth behind the pendant that she is afraid to take off, the story behind the eerie statues that seem to watch her night and day, and the reason why the odd man in the blue box is so determined to help her, even though she is a complete stranger to him.

Disclaimer: I own nothing from the _Dr. Who_ universe. None of the characters that you are familiar with belong to me (I'm sure you already know that, but I had to say so anyway, just to cover all my bases). I'm simply borrowing them for this tale of fanfiction. I can only claim my OC, Jessamine, as my own, as well as Eleanor Harris and her family, along with any and all original characters who find their way out of my imagination and into this story.

Author's Note: I would like to begin by saying that I am a novice Whovian, and as such, my knowledge of the material is limited. You should know that I will stray from what is canon in nature on a regular basis, and if you cannot tolerate the fact that I will do so, please turn back now. If you don't like the idea of the 10th Doctor keeping romantic company with an OFC, please turn back now. If you can't accept the fact that I will be changing a couple of key rules in the _Dr_. _Who_ universe, please turn back now. Just so we're clear, this story will not be canon compliant, you will be exposed to the Doctor enjoying a friendship and eventual love life with an OFC, and I will monkey with the rules to suit my purposes, and if you choose to continue to read, you are saying that you accept these facts and you will not be entitled to leave me a review that finds fault with me for doing so.

Hear Ye, Hear Ye: This story is rated **M** for mild to moderate violent and/or threatening situations, mild cursing, and a variety of citrus, both limes and lemons.

Chapter One

_Prologue_

A young woman was sitting at the bedside of an old woman who was dying, holding her hand, just as she'd promised she would. The room that they were in was the bedroom that the old woman shared with her husband for over sixty years, until the day that he'd died two years before, and the young woman could feel the love that they'd shared with one another all around her, in spite of the time that had passed.

There was a small walnut table sitting on the other side of the bed, topped with a large crocheted doily and covered with a variety of pictures of the happy couple, taken at various times during their life with one another. The old woman had told the young woman the story of how they'd met and fell in love many times, in writing, but this was the first time that she'd done so in person, and the young woman listened to the tale, thoroughly entranced, as the years fell away and she found herself in life as it was, in the early years of the Second World War.

"I was twenty years old at the time, a nurse stationed at the Salford Royal Hospital on Chapel Street," the old woman said softly, in a voice that was worn thin with age, and hushed by the tiredness that seemed to come with dying. "Blitzes were nothing new to me and the other girls, we were used to them…as used to them as a body can be…but this one was different…this one took my two best girlfriends, along with twelve other girls, when the Germans hit the hospital directly with one of their bombs."

The young woman knew that she wasn't really hearing the voices of the other young women, whispering to one another about this young man or that one, when they weren't speaking kindly to a man who'd woken from yet another nightmare. She knew that she didn't really hear them screaming, with fear, then agony, as the sound of explosions filled the air. She knew that it was all in her imagination, as were the smells of bleach and the last lingering odors from the cafeteria. She was not standing in the Salford Royal Hospital with her friend, who was young now, instead of old, living rather than dying. She was in the old woman's bedroom, sitting beside her bed, holding her hand, just as she'd promised she would, and everything else that she heard and smelled were simply figments of her overactive imagination…at least, that was what she told herself, though she was fairly certain that she did not believe her own words.

"One minute they were there, and the next they were gone," the old woman continued, a tear lingering for a moment on her eyelashes, before it traced its way down her weathered cheek, followed closely by a second, then a third, on and on, until the young woman lost count of all of the tears that her friend had cried. "Judy was engaged, she planned to be married after the war ended, and Betty had three younger sisters. I can still see them when I close my eyes, I can still hear their voices, and the way they sounded when they laughed. I watched them live and then I watched them die, and I remember being so angry with God in that moment, because He'd taken them and left me behind."

The old woman saw that the young woman had joined her in crying, and she squeezed her hand to console her. "I don't know why God chose to bless me after I railed at Him so viciously," she continued, looking at the young woman with a smile, a beam that started small, then grew brighter and brighter, as her memory brought her back to the day that her life had changed in so many different ways. "But my Billy was a blessing, the greatest one that I ever received, until the children came along, that is, three little miracles given to me and the man who was God's greatest gift to me. Billy was the one who saved me that night; he pulled me free of the wreakage and tended to my wounds. He just appeared out of nowhere and rescued me….."

The young woman, who was dabbing at her eyes and holding fast to the hand of her friend, was certain that she'd misunderstood the old woman's words, this new part of the story that she thought she knew so well, but she did not want her suspicion to show, lest it hurt her friend's feelings. That was why she did her best to keep the expression that would have told the old woman that she doubted her off of her face, but it showed itself none the less. Thankfully, her friend was not offended by the young woman's lack of acceptance, if anything; she seemed to have expected it. After all, who wouldn't be filled with doubt, if they were to hear such a story?

Jessamine's POV

Eleanor had loved peonies; she'd sworn that there were no flowers in existence that possessed a fragrance that could match that of a peony. She'd always joked in her letters that her garden was rather snobbish and selective, because there were no other blossoms to be found within their cobbled borders, none but the beloved peony, and she was not the least bit ashamed of that bias. Her children had done a good job about ensuring that the garden that their mother had loved so fiercely was well-tended, and that was where I'd gone to acquire the bouquet that I held in my hand, with their blessing, to lay them on Eleanor's grave, so that she might see how well her blooms had done this year.

I'd brought her a couple of Bric a Brac peonies, which had been her favorites, along with some of the Heidi, Lorelei and Rachel varieties. I remembered Eleanor telling me, more than once, in her letters, that Billy had always liked the Christmas Velvet peonies best, because red had always been his favorite color, and I'd collected a bouquet of those as well, to place on his side of the headstone. I'd found a couple of beautiful metal vases that I hoped would be able to weather any and all of the elements that made their way through the cemetery, and arranged the flowers as best as I could, and standing there now, checking out my handiwork, I had to admit that I'd done a pretty good job.

"Wotcher, Nell," I whispered, bending to straighten the vase that held her precious peonies, even though I knew that it was already just as it ought to be. The greeting was one that we'd used at the beginning of all of our letters to one another, Wotcher, Nell, from me to her, and Wotcher, Jess, from her to me. My eyes filled with tears this time, just as soon as I said the words aloud, just as they had each and every time I visited her, and I wondered how long it would take, how much time would pass before the pain finally began to lessen. "I brought you some of your babies, just like I said I would, and I brought some for Billy as well. I know that he didn't know me, but I feel like I knew him…and besides which, we _do_ have something in common, don't we?"

I glanced about furtively, checking left, then right, before I looked behind me, to make certain that I wasn't being watched, and then I reached beneath the neckline of my dress and took the pendant that Eleanor had given me into my hand. She'd bidden me to bend down close to her moments before she'd died, and she'd fastened the fine silver chain that Billy had given her so many years before around my neck, with the order that I must always wear it, that I must do everything in my power to keep it safe, and never allow it to fall into the hands of those who would use it to suit their evil purposes.

It had occurred to me at the time that she was laying one _hell_ of a responsibility onto my shoulders, and there had been a small part of me that had asked me, that had _begged_ me, to refuse her bequest, but the larger, less cowardly portions of my personality had ganged up on the smaller one and silenced it before it had a chance to sway my heart. I knew that I couldn't refuse the woman who had been like family to me…though standing there now, with the prickles beginning on the back of my neck, that unpleasant tingling that made my hair stand up, accompanied by my rapidly beating heart and a fair share of goose-pimpled flesh on my arms, all of which told me that I was being watched, yet again, made me wonder, yet again, if I'd made the right decision.

There was no doubt in my mind that I was being followed, and watched, at all times. I'd had the feeling that there was someone there, unseen, no matter how quickly I turned 'round to look for them, ever since Eleanor had passed on, and I knew that they were somehow tied to the pendant that I wore day and night, and to the fantastical tale that my friend had told me about the night that she'd met her husband, but who were they? Was it simply the pendant that they were after, or was there something else that they wanted from me as well…and how far would they go to get it?

I took a deep breath and gathered all my courage, leaning forward with one hand, to touch first Eleanor's name on the headstone, and then Billy's, while I held the pendant tightly in the other. Billy Harris had asked Eleanor to act as guardian of the pretty, yet seemingly worthless trinket when he'd proposed to her, and she, in turn, had passed the duty onto me mere moments before her death, and I took comfort in the presence of both of them, even though they weren't really there.

"Here we go again," I whispered, running my hand over the black marble in a way that I hoped conveyed to them how much I loved them, just in case I never got the chance to tell them, once more, how I felt. I took another deep breath, one that escaped me in a whimper, certain that I could feel the one who was following me standing right behind me, then I whirled around to find…nothing.

I don't mean that there was nothing to be seen, because the cemetery that was filled with a variety of tombstones remained, and all of the greenery and the benches that dotted the layout here and there were still where I'd expected them to be, but there wasn't any_one_ lurking about, no boogeymen creeping toward me, ready to snatch the necklace from 'round my neck and bound away with it…not unless one of those angels who graced the place decided to leave their position as the guardian of the dead to become a thief and master of evil, that is.

There was no denying that the angels were a little, well, _disturbing_, but that didn't mean that I had any reason to be scared of them. Don't get me wrong, I had no problem whatsoever with angel statues, as a matter of fact, I usually took comfort in them, but these were different. I suppose that it was fitting for them to be crying, after all, this _was_ a cemetery, but there was something about the way that they covered their faces that suggested that they were _hiding_, rather than shedding tears for all of the departed souls that were represented by each headstone…oh, that was just ridiculous. I was just emotional and scared, a combination that almost always made me imagine things, and I was just being silly…though, now that I thought about it, I would have sworn that the angel that was nearest to me had been a little further away than it was at that moment…..

A hand touching my shoulder brought me out of my thoughts with a start, and I conveyed that surprise by adding a bloodcurdling scream to the jump I'd made, just in case the one who'd touched me happened to miss the fact that they'd scared me half to death, judging by the way that I'd magically leapt three feet into the air. After all of that, once I'd regained my footing and while I struggled to slow my heart and remember how to breathe, I turned around to find a strange man standing behind me, one who ought to have worn either a murderous or an apologetic look, but who, for reasons which were both unknown and vastly irritating to me, looked thoroughly confused and mildly exasperated instead.

"Don't be daft," he hissed, using his hold on my shoulder, which he'd somehow retained, in spite of the fact that I'd flown into the air, and then whirled around to confront him, to turn me back around, to face the angel…which was no longer covering its eyes. "You have to watch it at all times and don't blink, don't even think about blinking…or screaming like that again…otherwise you'll be dead…well, I made up that bit about the screaming, I was just looking out for my ears with that suggestion, but all of the rest of it is true."

The funny thing about being told _not_ to do something is that you automatically do it, as if you're unconsciously trained to be rebellious, even when you know that doing so could get you in big trouble, so, needless to say, I blinked, twice. Once that was done, I must have felt the need, involuntarily, of course, to up the ante, so I turned around, again, to look at the man who'd scared me senseless, and then commenced bossing me about. His eyes met, and held, mine for about half a second, and then he made a sound that was positively _brimming_ with disgust and whirled me back around…to find that the angel had moved again, it was standing closer to us, and it had covered its eyes once more, but that couldn't be, could it? That sort of thing was impossible, wasn't it?

"Why are you so determined to act as if you haven't got a single active brain cell in your head?" he asked, his mouth unbearably close to my ear…not to mention the long and lean length of his body, which was practically molded against me in a way that might be called indecent in nature. "Are you really and truly that dim-witted, or are you simply hard of hearing?"

I sucked in a deep breath at his words, one that traveled inward through my nose and audibly conveyed my irritation quite well, and he heard, and recognized it for what it was right away, which I took to mean that he wasn't nearly as daft as he believed me to be. He was a jerk, there was no denying that, but he seemed to know what he was talking about, given that the angel had obviously moved, even if it, by all rights, had no business doing so, and that was why I didn't stomp his foot with my own…though I seriously considered doing so.

"I'm being rude, aren't I?" he asked, tightening his hand on my shoulder, almost as if he was caressing it reassuringly. "Well, I suppose that I can apologize later, provided that we both survive, of course, but right now I'm going to concentrate my attention on saving us instead. Just keep watching them…and remember not to blink, no matter what, don't blink."

Now why did he have to tempt me that way?

The Doctor's POV

"Would you _please_ stop telling me not to blink?" she asked, grinding out her words, as if she was speaking through teeth which were tightly clenched. "Every time you tell me not to blink, I blink, one damned blink after another, three that last time, at least, so would you kindly keep your order that I not _you know what_ to yourself?"

Well, how was that for gratitude? Try to save someone's life, do the right and valiant thing, and they respond by biting your head clean off. Of course, I _had_ frightened her, my ears were still ringing with the proof of that, and I _had_ suggested that she might have been a wee bit daft, but I had promised that I would apologize for that, hadn't I? Hmm…perhaps _promise_ isn't the right word, but I had _suggested_ that I would, and I should think that would suffice, given the circumstances…but maybe she didn't know the circumstances, though, how could she not, unless she _was_ daft, thoroughly and pitifully dim-witted, which was a shame, really, because she truly was quite pretty…..

"Yoo-hoo, rude guy, did you pass out back there?" she whispered in a singsong tone that would have made me laugh, had the situation that we were in not been so dire. The Weeping Angels were enough for me to worry about, I had enough on my plate, I did not need anymore, but she must have disagreed. She started wriggling about and rubbing herself against me, when I failed to answer her as quickly as she would have liked me to, which was a really bad idea, because there were parts of me that were noticing, and appreciating, bits of her a great deal more than they ought to, and it did not help, at all, when she insisted on caressing my parts with her bits. "You said that you were going to save us, so what exactly does that entail, and how do you propose we do so without taking our eyes of the _killer_ statues?"

There was a hint of sarcasm in her tone, nothing major, but enough of a trace to annoy me. I knew that she was frightened, and her derision was an attempt to mask her fear, but there was no need for her to resort to that sort of behavior to save face with me, because I reasoned that those who weren't afraid in moments such as these were too stupid to live…and she was sounding smarter with each moment that passed. It was just a pity that part of that smart side of her personality would have to be followed by the word a…..

"Are you still _alive_ back there?" she hissed, wriggling about more and more, until, eventually, her bits bumped against my parts just right and proved to her that I _was_ indeed very much alive. "Ugh!" she shrieked, and started to move out of my arms. "You're nothing but a _pervert_, aren't you? You've been hiding in the cemetery, waiting for some poor, dumb woman to cross your path so you can feed her some cockamamie story about killer statues, haven't you?"

Well, now, that really was too much. "I am _not_ a man who molests women at any time," I told her, as calmly and reasonably as I could, which wasn't easy, given that she insisted on sparking my temper by fighting my efforts to keep her right where she was with so much enthusiasm. "And I certainly don't do so when I am smack-dab in the middle of a cemetery, doing my best to keep myself and said woman alive, though I don't know why I bother….!"

My voice trailed away when it dawned on me that I was staring down into her eyes. My eyes were on hers and hers were on mine…and that meant that neither set was where they ought to be, which was on the Weeping Angel. It was obvious that she had just had the same epiphany that I had, and we both turned 'round, our heads jerking quickly and simultaneously…to find the blasted thing staring at us, a mere breath away, teeth bared and eyes wide.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The Doctor's POV

I had gotten off on the wrong foot with Jessamine Cooper, and that was a bad thing, to be sure, because she had angels following her about for some reason and how was I ever going to discover why they were doing so, if she refused to speak to me? It wasn't that I was trying to be rude, as a matter of fact, I was making a concerted effort _not_ to be rude, yet somehow I'd managed to offend her just the same. I suppose that I could understand why she'd take offense at my insinuations that she was daft, dimwitted even, after all, it had to be hurtful to hear such things, not that _I_ would know, but she had been impolite as well, by accusing me of acting like some sort of deviant…and neither of those things meant a damn, given that we were moments away from a sure and sudden death.

"Help," she whispered, to me, perhaps, though, given our brief history with one another, it was a bit of a stretch of the old imagination that she'd be pleading for _my_ assistance. "I don't know who you are, or what you want from me, but please tell me how we're going to get out of this."

Perhaps I wasn't so repugnant to her after all…that, or she was willing to tolerate me for no other reason than I was the only one who might be able to help her. I would have liked to believe that it was the former, rather than the latter, because I did not want her to loathe me, but if I were to be honest with myself I would have to admit that it was undoubtedly her desire to live which made me more tolerable to her, and that was a shame, because we were going to be spending a good deal of time with one another, provided that we survived…..

"This is not the time for you to go silent on me," she hissed, moving back against me, as if she now enjoyed the feel of my arms holding her tight, when, just moments before, she'd been eager to be free of my embrace. "I'm going to have to blink soon; I can feel it creeping up on me….."

Hmm…she was very soft and warm, small and curvy and she smelled good too. It was unfortunate that I couldn't fully appreciate the moment, but it would be unwise, to say the very least, for me to allow my attention to wander. That being said, there was no reason why I couldn't tighten my hold on her, as a matter of fact, I believed that the situation warranted me doing so, and, surprisingly enough, she laid her hand on top of mine after I did so, as if she hoped to hold me in place.

"My apologies, Jessamine," I whispered, my mouth against her ear, and wondered why she shivered as I did so. "Just tell me when you need to blink, and I will keep watch…..

"Um…I already blinked twice," she murmured, and I bit back a comment that would have undoubtedly reignited her temper, given that it would have, once more, called her intelligence into question. "I might be able to stop myself from doing so, if I had a roll of scotch tape in my bag, but the only thing with an adhesive in my purse is a panty liner, and I don't think that would do us much good, would it?"

I did not want to tell her that I had no idea what a "panty liner" was, for fear that she might feel obliged to bring _my_ intelligence into question, but I had to admit, to myself, at least, that my curiosity was piqued. I knew what panties were, I'd heard that term before, and I knew that they usually possessed a cotton lining between the openings for the legs, but what I couldn't understand was why anyone would remove said liner, apply adhesive to it, and carry it about in their handbag. Perhaps it was a new practice for human women. I just hoped that they didn't use the lining from panties that they'd already worn, because that seemed rather unsanitary to me, even if they'd washed them, and besides which, wouldn't the glue lose its stickiness in the process?

"You're not saying anything," she said, using that singsong tone that I didn't care for at all. "I've blinked half a dozen times, at the very least, and this angel is liable to get both of us if we don't do something soon. I don't know about you, but I'm not ready to die just yet, so would you kindly tell me what we're going to do?"

"Don't panic, Jessamine," I said, taking care to keep my own voice as calm as possible, which wasn't easy, given my tendency toward excitability. "The TARDIS is very close, no more than, oh, two hundred steps, at the very most. We can make it very easily, as long as we keep our heads and don't give in to the lure of hysterics ..."

"What in hell is a TARDIS?" she asked, in a tone that was decidedly hostile in nature, though, thankfully, it was a fairly _calm_ air of aggression. "That sounds like something that you just made up, and two hundred steps might not sound like much to you, buddy, but I say that it's pretty damned far. And another thing, I don't know how you know my name, but it is pronounced Jess-a-m_ee_n, _not_ Jess-a-m_i_ne….."

"That doesn't sound right to me," I interrupted, slowly moving backward, until the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up and tingled, which I took as a warning that I should stop and peek over my shoulder before I went any further. What I saw made my hearts stop for a moment, and when they commenced their rhythm, the cadence was much more frantic than it had been before. "Not that it matters what I think. What _does_ matter is that the TARDIS is, in fact, very real. I know that she is real, because I am the one who borrowed her. I can't explain how she works, I don't have the time or patience for that right now, but I can promise you that she is our only hope…you're simply going to have to trust me, Jessam_i_ne."

I stubbornly clung to the pronunciation that sounded correct to me, one, because it sounded right, and two, because I sensed that she would be less likely to give in to her fear, along with the need to blink incessantly, if she was angry. Our situation had just gone from bad to worse, and I knew that the only way that we were going to be able to get out of this mess was if she listened to me, and followed my every command. It was a risk, to be sure, because there were always those who refused to accept orders when they were having a temper tantrum, even if it meant that they would be harmed if they didn't, but I was going to assume that Jessamine was _not_ one of those sorts…I just hoped I wasn't mistaken.

"I guess that I don't have any choice, do I….? Oh, this is just great. I don't know who the hell you are, I have a bad feeling that you're an escaped mental patient who's _rescuing_ me from this statue that shouldn't be moving because you have every intention of murdering me, but I have no other alternative other than the one that says that I trust you, because it's do that or die…and besides which, you might _not_ be a murderer. I can always hope for the best, can't I, Mr. Whoever You Are….."

I did not appreciate the insinuation that I might have been a murderer, but it was understandable why she would be hesitant to trust me. After all, I _was_ a complete stranger, one who'd possibly made a break from the nearest insane asylum, and it was therefore absolutely feasible that I might have every intention of killing her…except for the fact that I wasn't any of those things, I wasn't going to do any of those things, and our situation had just become much more perilous than it had been.

"I am the Doctor," I told her, biting back a thoroughly rude comment when I heard her tiny whoop of laughter in response to my belated introduction, followed closely by something that sounded suspiciously like "weirdo axe murderer with delusions of grandeur". "And I _am_ going to get us out of this, Jessam_i_ne, but you're going to have to trust me, and do as I say, when I say it, without question….."

"Ugh…you're one of those control freak types, aren't you?" she asked, in a tone that was annoyingly similar to the one that she'd used when she was accusing me of being a pervert. "'Do as I say, when I say it, without question'…well, to hell with that, _Doctor_. I don't take orders from anyone, especially someone who seems to be one French fry short of a Happy Meal, who deliberately mispronounces my name, just for kicks…hey…hey! What do you think you're doing? You can't turn your back on this statue and leave me to watch it on my own! What'll I do if I have to blink? Are you _trying_ to kill me, because if you are, I can assure you that there are far less terrifying ways for you to go about doing so….!"

"Would you kindly stop squawking in my ear?" I hissed, almost turning to look back at her, to glare at the back of her head, but thankfully I remembered the angel that was stalking me, and kept my eyes on it instead. "I am trying to save your life, you irritating woman, and mine as well, and how do you propose that I do that by turning my back on the angel that is approaching us from the rear, Jessam_i_ne? Oh, I know…let's switch places."

Jessamine's POV

He'd lied to me. The tall, skinny gink who went around calling himself the Doctor had told me a boldfaced, out-and-out _lie_ when he'd assured me that it was only two hundred steps to the TARDIS. It had been five hundred and forty-seven steps instead; I knew this because I'd counted each and every one of them. I'd done so to myself, with my back pressed tight against the back of the Doctor, while also doing my damnedest to paralyze my eyelids, to keep them from blinking. In spite of my best efforts, I hadn't been able to keep myself from fluttering my eyelids, I had done so countless times, and the damned statue had gained on me each and every time that I'd done so, which quickly destroyed the little thrill of triumph that I'd felt when we'd finally managed to get ahead of the beautifully carved killer angel.

I hadn't been able to see the Doctor's angel, but it sounded like he'd had to blink a few times as well, given the softly muttered curses that I'd heard every now and then. It had occurred to me, more than once, as we made our way across the cemetery, that we must have been quite a sight to behold. Anyone who saw us would have undoubtedly wondered why in the world we were walking that way, with one facing forward and the other looking backward. They would have probably asked themselves why it looked like I was on the verge of tears. They might have been tempted to contact the nearest mental hospital, to have both of us carted away, and I couldn't help but think that they would have been wise to do so.

These sorts of things weren't possible. Statues didn't move. Men who'd escaped loony bins didn't lurk in cemeteries to kidnap the first woman who was unfortunate enough to cross his path. Human beings did not have to avoid the touch of the angels who shouldn't have been moving in order to stay alive. Crazy men didn't call a flying blue box their home…and my dearest friend in the world hadn't been married to a man who'd traveled back in time to find her, because he'd fallen in love with her photograph.

These were things that I would have sworn was true not too long ago, but now I knew better, and I wished, with all of my heart, that I _didn't_ know. Statues _did_ move when you weren't watching them. They stalked you, and waited for you to blink, and then they crept closer and closer, hand outstretched, to end your life with a single touch. I also had to admit that the Doctor wasn't crazy, not really, he was just _different_, and he did call the TARDIS, otherwise known as a flying blue box, his home. And my dearest friend, the woman who'd been like family to me, _had_ been married to a man who'd traveled back in time to find her. Eleanor had told me the story before she'd passed, about Billy seeing her face in an article about the victims of the blitzing of Salford Royal Hospital, and falling in love with her. She'd been a little vague on the details of how he'd managed to do so, but somehow he'd managed to make his way back through the years to find her and save her, because the idea of her dying was too painful for him to bear. They'd been married for over sixty years, and she'd borne him three children. He'd been her soul mate, he'd taken possession of her heart and she'd mourned him incessantly in all of the years that had passed since the day he'd died, an occasion which had taken place twenty years before he'd been born, which was impossible…only it wasn't.

Things has gotten a little hairy, to say the very least, when the time had come for us to switch places, again, so the Doctor could unlock the door of the TARDIS. We'd made our way around my angel somewhere around the one hundredth step, with me turning sideways to keep my eye on it as we passed, a victory that had been very short-lived when I'd discovered another one lingering a little further along the path. That was the way that it had been the entire journey. We'd pass one and then I'd spot another one, which on its own was bad enough, but then I'd have to blink, and every time I'd opened my eyes they'd be closer, until I entertained the notion of giving in to the urge to have a heart attack and get it all over with.

Our journey had finally ended when we reached the blue box that the Doctor had been steering me toward ever since I'd spotted it in the distance, that distance that had been five hundred and forty-seven steps, as opposed to two hundred. I might have been tempted to give him a piece of my mind, even though I would have known that it was a bad time to do so, but the TARDIS' door was locked, and I'd had to switch places with the Doctor so he could open it, and when I saw what he'd been facing the entire trip, I kind of lost the urge to gripe at him about anything.

I'd stupidly believed that it was the worst thing possible, to face down one angel after another, but that was because I hadn't given any thought to what it would be like to stare down all of the statues that we'd left in our wake. I'd been so eager to tear into him for lying to me, but then I'd been confronted with the sight of not just one angel, but seven of them, all spread out, some far, more near, and one that was so close that I would have been able to feel its breath, had it not been a statue.

_Dear God_, I'd thought, fighting against the foolish desire to scream. _How was he able to stand the pressure, and hardly say a word_?

I hadn't been able to lose the panicked feeling that had taken hold of me, not even after the Doctor had pulled me inside and shut the door. I'd known that it didn't matter that we were safe for the moment, because the angels would surround the TARDIS and then we'd be trapped. It had been horrific enough, to know that they would stalk me when I was out in the open, but the notion that they would encircle the blue box and imprison us inside was enough to make me shudder from head-to-toe with a crippling sense of fear that made me want to cry.

I stared at that door for several moments, completely ignoring my amazing surroundings, even though I was aware of the fact that I ought to have been staring at them with blatant wonder. I couldn't stop shivering, even though it wasn't cold inside. My chin was wobbling, and I could hear the choked sobbing sound that I was making. I knew that it was only a matter of time before I broke down and cried like a baby, it was inevitable, there was nothing that could be done to stop it…or so I thought, until the Doctor turned me away from the door and took me into his arms.

God, he was skinny. It should have felt like a skeleton was hugging me, so imagine my surprise when it didn't. Granted, he was thin, but he was surprisingly solid, lean, but muscled, and so tall that I had to stand on my tiptoes to slide my arms around his neck, which was exactly what I did, though I could say _why_ I did. I didn't know this man from Adam, and I was just beginning to move past the idea that he was a loony serial killer, so I should have given him a wide berth, thirty feet, at the very least, but I didn't want to turn loose of him, and I didn't want him to let me go of me, not for anything…or so I thought.

I was caught up in his warmth, and how wonderful his arms felt, holding me the way that they were. I was thinking to myself that he smelled good, like cinnamon and clove and black tea. I was wondering what he was thinking of me. I was touched that he wanted to comfort me, even though he didn't know me. I was thinking that I could have stayed that way for an hour, at least, and I might have done just that, if he hadn't opened his big mouth and ruined everything.

"Hmm…you seem to be having trouble with the words," he murmured, moving away from me, to run his thumbs beneath my eyes and wipe away the traces of the tears that had fallen. "Most people say that it's bigger on the inside, as a matter of fact, that's usually all that I hear, but you can come up with one of your own if you'd like. I could help you, if you need me to, given that you're a little shaky and watery right now….."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, feeling a spark within me, one that was doing its damnedest to reignite my temper. I couldn't say what irritated me more, his need to babble, or the fact that he'd turned loose of me before I was ready for him to. I had an idea that it was the latter, rather than the former, and that frustrated me even more, but thankfully, for me, he started jabbering again, and gave me an excuse to ignore the feelings that were causing me so much distress.

"Well, I thought that you'd want to say something about the TARDIS, the undoubtedly impressive Time and Relative Dimension in Space, after all, it's unlike anything that you've ever seen, is it not? All of those who view it on the inside do so with wonder, and most of them feel the need to make a comment, to voice something that is obvious, usually that it is bigger on the inside…but you're not saying anything."

I took a deep breath, to steady and calm myself as best as I could, but only because he'd saved my life. "You'll have to forgive me, Doctor, but I am a little upset right now, having just survived an encounter with a horde of killer angel statues, and as such I am a little underwhelmed by my surroundings. I'm certain that I will be able to give the TARDIS all of the wonder that it deserves once I've calmed down, before the claustrophobia of imprisonment sinks in, but right now I'm a little too scared….."

"_She_, not _it_," he said, giving me a look that suggested that I was not only dense, but unforgivably rude as well. "You do not know any better, but for future reference, the TARDIS is a _she_, not an_ it_. I don't know if this will help, but you should know that this wasn't the first time that you've been surrounded by a horde of Weeping Angels. They've been shadowing you for a couple of weeks now. There was one time that they could've gotten you quite easily, so this wasn't your first brush with death at their hands, if that makes you feel any better."

The face that I was making at that moment was probably a comical one, with wide eyes and a mouth that was hanging open, but I didn't think that there was one damned thing about this situation that was the least bit funny. How in the hell was I supposed to find solace in the fact that I'd nearly been killed at least once before…and what's more, how in the hell did he know how close I'd been?

"Have you been following me?" I asked quietly, in a tone that was surprisingly calm, in spite of the fact that I was seconds away from exploding. "Is that why you were there to save me?"

"Well, that much ought to be obvious without me saying so," he said, almost sunnily, as he ambled toward the console that rested in the center of the TARDIS, whistling a little tune as he went, as if he didn't have a care in the world. "How else would I have known that you needed me to rescue you today, eh, Jessam_i_ne?"

Okay, that was it. I was going to kill him. I was going to wrap my hands around his neck and choke the life from his skinny body. I was going to ruthlessly and violently _murder_ him, and then I was going to sink down to the floor, and pillow my head on his corpse, while I slowly died of thirst…and so I might have done, had he not thrown a lever on the console, filling the air with a _whooshing_ sound, which almost covered my scream as I went flying across the room, to land, once more, in his arms.


	3. A Note From Mary Sue

Hello Readers,

I have decided that it would be best to concentrate my attention on updating and completing the stories that are winding down to an end before I continue with my newer works. That means that everything newish will have to be put on hiatus for a short time until all of the others on my to-do list are done.

The first work that will be on the line for completion is _Always Faithful_, which has three chapters left. The second will be _Someone to Watch over Me_, which will be finished in six more chapters. The third story in line is _Too Good To Be True_, which has five more chapters, and the fourth and final work on this list is _Your Eyes Betray Your Words_, which will reach its ending in six more chapters.

I know that this will have a lot of you waiting a good, long while for your updates, if you are not interested in any of the stories that I am going to concentrate on, and I apologize for that. Rest assured that I will return to them, once I have given these others the attention and completion that they deserve.

Thank you, as always, for your patience and your support,

~Miss Mary


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